What do you think?
Rate this book
The Rose Garden: Short Stories
Addictive tales from a rediscovered mid-century master. Or maybe the more appropriate word would be mistress, since The Rose Garden is crammed to the rafters with maids and their mistresses. Maeve Brennan, a longtime staff writer at The New Yorker, shows herself thoroughly in control of her fictive house in this posthumous reissue of stories from the 1950s through the '70s. Each is a witty, mean little miracle of lost chances and bruised egos. The first five stories are set in the town of Herbert's Retreat, an arty, expensive enclave on the Hudson, based on Sneden's Landing where Brennan lived for several years with her husband, New Yorker managing editor St. Clair McKelway. The Herbert's Retreat stories are linked entertainments, compulsively readable, and worthy of the adoration inspired by F. Scott Fitzgerald's "Basil and Josephine" stories. Like Fitzgerald, Brennan limns shattering loss and hilariously sends up middle-class pretentions--sometimes within the space of the same sentence. A pompous New York critic imposes his finicky will on the good wives of the community; a favorite son returns a broken man and finds that only the maids will dance with him; a bum passing through leaves his rather stinky mark. Every character, above stairs and below, lives for the delight of recounting the disasters and drunks of the night before. The afternoon before the servants' annual dance, "jaded with talking about the dance, anxious now only to get on with it, willing even to have it past, so that they could start enjoying the discussion of it, most of the maids at Herbert's Retreat lay down on their beds for an unaccustomed ceremonial nap before getting dressed for the evening." The closed community and its inhabitants' transparent attempts to dominate each other recall E.F. Benson's utterly delightful Lucia series.
The Rose Garden is rounded out with several of Brennan's acclaimed stories of bereft Dublin life, a couple of experimental, stream-of-consciousness pieces, and, of all things, a handful of dog stories. Her forays into the interior life of her Labrador, Bluebell, might read as twee indulgences, except they're so rife with breathtaking, careful
The Rose Garden is rounded out with several of Brennan's acclaimed stories of bereft Dublin life, a couple of experimental, stream-of-consciousness pieces, and, of all things, a handful of dog stories. Her forays into the interior life of her Labrador, Bluebell, might read as twee indulgences, except they're so rife with breathtaking, careful
That was an unearthly morning--one mislaid at the beginning of the world and recovered in East Hampton under a high and massive sky of Mediterranean blue.... The wind was so new that it blew cold, in its first rush across the world, but the air was soft. The pheasant's head and body were almost buried in the powdery sand, but he had fallen with his wings wide open, and one of them slanted up to make a wedge of color in the air.Such quiet, perfect sentences stud Maeve Brennan's stories. This is a book full of intelligent diversions, a book that makes a good, lasting sound. --Claire Dederer
307 pages, Paperback
First published December 23, 1999
26 people are currently reading
884 people want to read
About the author
Maeve Brennan
41 books128 followersMaeve Brennan (January 6, 1917-1993) was an Irish short story writer and journalist. She moved to the United States in 1934 when her father was appointed to the Irish Legation in Washington. She was an important figure in both Irish diaspora writing and in Irish writing itself. Collections of her articles, short stories, and a novella have been published.
(from Wikipedia)
(from Wikipedia)
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews
Read
May 25, 2017But I opened my eyes too suddenly, for no reason at all, and the beach at East Hampton has vanished, along with Bluebell and the cats, all of them dead for years now. The Turkish towel is in reality the white nubbly counterpane of the bed I am lying in, and the cool ocean breeze is being provided by the blessed air conditioner. It is ninety-three degrees outside - a terrible day in New York City. So much for my daydream of sand and sea and roses. The daydream was, after all, only a mild attack of homesickness. The reason it was a mild attack instead of a fierce one is that there are a number of places I am homesick for. East Hampton is only one of them.
That quote is from Maeve Brennan’s preface to this collection of short stories and it echoes the sadness to be found in several of them. Her original family home in Dublin features as do other places she spent time in during her life as a columnist for The New Yorker. Most of the stories are in the classic story mould, short and sharp with a twist in the tail. A few are more light-hearted, as, for example, those which feature Bluebell, her beloved labrador.
In all of them, the writing is a treat to read, no frills or flounces, just clarity and wit.
If you enjoy short stories as much as I do, this will be a beautiful addition to your collection.
That quote is from Maeve Brennan’s preface to this collection of short stories and it echoes the sadness to be found in several of them. Her original family home in Dublin features as do other places she spent time in during her life as a columnist for The New Yorker. Most of the stories are in the classic story mould, short and sharp with a twist in the tail. A few are more light-hearted, as, for example, those which feature Bluebell, her beloved labrador.
In all of them, the writing is a treat to read, no frills or flounces, just clarity and wit.
If you enjoy short stories as much as I do, this will be a beautiful addition to your collection.
December 17, 2023
"They were marked for life by their ravenous hopes," writes the sublime Brennan (1917-93). "They had the glittering, exploring eyes of people who have never learned to control their dreams." This most personal story ("The Bohemians") details in 12 eloquent, restrained pages (that would take most novelists 500) the story of a couple with one child who reflects as an adult, last line, "Things had not turned out as he expected. It is a hard thing for a person to be left alone in the world--"
Brennan, hedlined today as the greatest Irish writer you never heard of, and she is, collides comedy and tragedy, hilarity and sorrow, along with loneliness and trivial snobbery, in her immaculate stories about disappointment. Many of the stories here are set at Herbert's Retreat, a private enclave of homes up the Hudson river one hour from NYC. Brennan uses the site known as Snedens Landing, which remains today private as ever b/c there's no room for expansion, unlike the luckless "Hamptons," which now attract rich rabble. Her Retreat stories are linked w the same characters, notably Leona, a smart, adventurous woman whose husband is a bore but whose best friend, Charles, a gay culture critic for regional papers and who lives in a NYC hotel room, weekends there, always. He tells Leona how to decorate, dress and "constantly advises her on the changing dimensions of good taste." She adores him. Charles, for his part, sees her as "a dear child, though he sometimes wished she might be a tiny bit more intelligent." In Brennan's "The Stone Hot Water Bottle," Leona & Charles have a crisis. Having gifted him with this water bottle, she lets a guest borrow it and Charles is livid. Who has his special water bottle? Leona is in tears for offending darling Charles. She finds a way to restore, and one-up, the balance.
Brennan's stories focus on the idiotic imperfections of life and people that can drive us crazy. And the selfishness. In "The Servant's Dance," the Irish help at the Retreat find recourse to outsnob those richies who pay their salaries. Here's a tale of funny, malicious spite.
A cat lover, Brennan's "I See You, Bianca," centers on a beloved cat (Bianca) who is "interested only in where she is, and what she can see and hope to touch with her nose and paws." Then Brennan tenderly describes the yawning, stretching, sleeping of Bianca who, one day, is nowhere to be found. "There is no end to Bianca's story because no one knows what happened to her." Her loss is accepted, just another disappointment and nothing more can be said. (Because Brennan knew Capote, many feel her personality influenced Holly Golightly and her cat).
B in Ireland, her family was Irish Republican, Brennan came to the US in her late teens and settled here as a journalist. Chic, worldly, sassy, she became a staffer for the New Yorker and briefly married one of its top (alcoholic) editors. There were other romances, and she lived extravagantly. Then, in the early 80s, she had a breakdown...and even forgot she had been a writer admired by Updike and Albee. "A troubled genius," as she was once described, Brennan happily is being rediscovered. For those who care about magical writing, in the company of Chekhov and Flaubert, says Albee, she's a blessed spirit. Can you name others?
Brennan, hedlined today as the greatest Irish writer you never heard of, and she is, collides comedy and tragedy, hilarity and sorrow, along with loneliness and trivial snobbery, in her immaculate stories about disappointment. Many of the stories here are set at Herbert's Retreat, a private enclave of homes up the Hudson river one hour from NYC. Brennan uses the site known as Snedens Landing, which remains today private as ever b/c there's no room for expansion, unlike the luckless "Hamptons," which now attract rich rabble. Her Retreat stories are linked w the same characters, notably Leona, a smart, adventurous woman whose husband is a bore but whose best friend, Charles, a gay culture critic for regional papers and who lives in a NYC hotel room, weekends there, always. He tells Leona how to decorate, dress and "constantly advises her on the changing dimensions of good taste." She adores him. Charles, for his part, sees her as "a dear child, though he sometimes wished she might be a tiny bit more intelligent." In Brennan's "The Stone Hot Water Bottle," Leona & Charles have a crisis. Having gifted him with this water bottle, she lets a guest borrow it and Charles is livid. Who has his special water bottle? Leona is in tears for offending darling Charles. She finds a way to restore, and one-up, the balance.
Brennan's stories focus on the idiotic imperfections of life and people that can drive us crazy. And the selfishness. In "The Servant's Dance," the Irish help at the Retreat find recourse to outsnob those richies who pay their salaries. Here's a tale of funny, malicious spite.
A cat lover, Brennan's "I See You, Bianca," centers on a beloved cat (Bianca) who is "interested only in where she is, and what she can see and hope to touch with her nose and paws." Then Brennan tenderly describes the yawning, stretching, sleeping of Bianca who, one day, is nowhere to be found. "There is no end to Bianca's story because no one knows what happened to her." Her loss is accepted, just another disappointment and nothing more can be said. (Because Brennan knew Capote, many feel her personality influenced Holly Golightly and her cat).
B in Ireland, her family was Irish Republican, Brennan came to the US in her late teens and settled here as a journalist. Chic, worldly, sassy, she became a staffer for the New Yorker and briefly married one of its top (alcoholic) editors. There were other romances, and she lived extravagantly. Then, in the early 80s, she had a breakdown...and even forgot she had been a writer admired by Updike and Albee. "A troubled genius," as she was once described, Brennan happily is being rediscovered. For those who care about magical writing, in the company of Chekhov and Flaubert, says Albee, she's a blessed spirit. Can you name others?
March 23, 2017
Lovely short stories! I have never heard of Maeve Brennan before but look forward to reading more of her work soon.
September 17, 2024
Generally wildly disappointing stuff, mostly because it's clear the author could write but too often didn't seem to know how to effectively apply her talent.
This volume's first half consists of 7 interrelated stories taking place at Herbert's Retreat, just outside NYC: "a restricted, protected, rigidly exclusive community."
In the volume's best, most accomplished tale, 'The Bride', the writer (in a mere 6 pages) unravels a heartfelt depiction of a young woman making the sudden shift from hired domestic to jittery future spouse.
The author had a relatively productive career for a time - but her life took an unfortunate turn toward alcoholism and mental illness. One can see... something... inward / removed in these stories; something suggesting that people were not really the author's thing.
This volume's first half consists of 7 interrelated stories taking place at Herbert's Retreat, just outside NYC: "a restricted, protected, rigidly exclusive community."
The most important fact, not vague at all, about Herbert's Retreat is that only the right people live there.As you might imagine, snobbery rules the day, with people attempting one-upmanship in this particular hierarchy. The writing is efficient and things are well-observed but the emphasis is on what's needlessly bitchy. The tone is set by a wearying Sheridan Whiteside-esque theater critic (probably gay but it's murky) who says things like:
"I hate children. They're so short."The mid-section has some promise. In 'The Holy Terror', we get a fairly harrowing portrait of a hotel worker who demands dominion over a ladies' room. It's a story with genuine bite.
It would have given her great satisfaction to go from room to room, straightening the guests out in their beds, like knives and forks.'The Beginning of a Long Story' is the leisurely view of an Irish family struggling to get by. The story stands out for the affection shared among the family members.
In the volume's best, most accomplished tale, 'The Bride', the writer (in a mere 6 pages) unravels a heartfelt depiction of a young woman making the sudden shift from hired domestic to jittery future spouse.
None of her hopes had come true. All of her hopes had turned into regrets; only the hurt, strained feeling in her heart was the same.For the most part, the whole rest of the book deals with the inner lives of cats and dogs. If that's your idea of arresting storytelling, have at it. In frustration, I skimmed the last three stories.
The author had a relatively productive career for a time - but her life took an unfortunate turn toward alcoholism and mental illness. One can see... something... inward / removed in these stories; something suggesting that people were not really the author's thing.
December 15, 2016
So good. These past two months I would read one short story from the collection every time I got stuck in revisions - or every time I was being lazy / didn't feel like it / was terrified I didn't actually know how to write - and it would make me want to get back to work and learn to be a better.
AND NOW I HAVE NO MORE MAEVE BRENNAN STORIES, HOW SHALL I HYPE MYSELF?
Ah well.
Most of the stories are set in and around Manhattan in the 40's and 50's. Some are set in Ireland. Some are funny, bubbly, upper-crust satire type things, some are so, so sad. Actually, a lot of them are melancholy in one way or another, especially in the second half of the book. Some lines seem almost throwaway, but then a second later you realise they're actually hilarious or wise.
Am probably going to go search out everything else Maeve Brennan has written now.
AND NOW I HAVE NO MORE MAEVE BRENNAN STORIES, HOW SHALL I HYPE MYSELF?
Ah well.
Most of the stories are set in and around Manhattan in the 40's and 50's. Some are set in Ireland. Some are funny, bubbly, upper-crust satire type things, some are so, so sad. Actually, a lot of them are melancholy in one way or another, especially in the second half of the book. Some lines seem almost throwaway, but then a second later you realise they're actually hilarious or wise.
Am probably going to go search out everything else Maeve Brennan has written now.
July 1, 2010
These stories were really wonderful. I enjoyed this book much more than the previous collection I read, Springs of Affection, in part because of the greater scope and greater opportunity for Brennan to express her talents. The twenty stories are divided subtly four groups, geographic rather than chronologic.
The first are all centred around an enclave called Herbert's Retreat (based on the real-life Sneed's Landing in lower Westchester Co., some thirty miles north of New York City). These are bitingly satirical upstairs-downstairs stories of wealthy New Yorkers and their Irish maids, and frequently the tales twist on a certain glee in "come-upance". The next group are set in Ireland, among quiet and simple people, what we would call the lower-middle class or even perhaps the working-poor. (We do go on about class, don't we? Although in the States it's always based on income.) The few that follow the Irish stories are set in New York City, in a never-land of Brennan's own particular experience; but that's the case with all New York experiences, I suspect: no two are exactly alike, yet all seem familiar.
The final group take place on Long Island, in a country cottage attached to a big house, a sprawling shingle-style summer resident of the Gilded Age. These stories feature a black Labrador named Bluebell owned by the tenant of the cottage, Miss Whitty, and a gaggle of children who inhabit big house on the hill. There's a certain wistfulness about the spinster and her animals and the children of other people.
More than one story in this collection caused me to laugh out loud. More than one left me in tears.
The first are all centred around an enclave called Herbert's Retreat (based on the real-life Sneed's Landing in lower Westchester Co., some thirty miles north of New York City). These are bitingly satirical upstairs-downstairs stories of wealthy New Yorkers and their Irish maids, and frequently the tales twist on a certain glee in "come-upance". The next group are set in Ireland, among quiet and simple people, what we would call the lower-middle class or even perhaps the working-poor. (We do go on about class, don't we? Although in the States it's always based on income.) The few that follow the Irish stories are set in New York City, in a never-land of Brennan's own particular experience; but that's the case with all New York experiences, I suspect: no two are exactly alike, yet all seem familiar.
The final group take place on Long Island, in a country cottage attached to a big house, a sprawling shingle-style summer resident of the Gilded Age. These stories feature a black Labrador named Bluebell owned by the tenant of the cottage, Miss Whitty, and a gaggle of children who inhabit big house on the hill. There's a certain wistfulness about the spinster and her animals and the children of other people.
More than one story in this collection caused me to laugh out loud. More than one left me in tears.
December 28, 2012
I enjoyed the rich descriptions. Example: "The little house was very quiet. Buttoned up in its diamonds with its shingled roof pulled down about its ears and its left shoulder turned to the ocean, the house seemed to enjoy the summer sun cautiously, as though it knew it wasn't a summer house..."
August 27, 2025
Soms hele leuke zinnen, maar geen idee wat ik nu eigenlijk gelezen heb. Alvast excuses aan de persoon aan wie ik hem ga aanprijzen bij de boekenruil, it’s gonna be a trage ride
September 4, 2012
She's a more bilious Katherine Mansfield and she's very very good.
December 31, 2023
Wat een vaardige pen!
May 27, 2022
Op zaterdagochtend is op Radio 1 vaak Lidewijde Paris te horen, die met vaart en aanstekelijk enthousiasme een aantal boeken bespreekt die net zijn uitgekomen. Een tijdje geleden was dat de verhalenbundel ‘De rozentuin’ van Maeve Brennan (1917-1993). Deze schrijfster emigreerde met haar ouders vanuit Ierland naar Amerika. Lidewijde Paris vertelde zo sprankelend over het boek, dat ik het direct wilde lezen.
De verhalenbundel bestaat uit vier delen, waarbij elk deel zich in een ander gebied afspeelt, vaak met dezelfde personages en in dezelfde tijd. Daardoor leer je een aantal personages goed kennen. Een voordeel ten opzichte van verhalenbundels die uit losse verhalen bestaan, vind ik.
Drie delen spelen zich af in New York of een rijke gemeenschap net daarbuiten. Een deel speelt zich af in Ierland, waar veel armoede is. Allemaal in de jaren 50 en 60.
Ik werd meteen opgezogen door het eerste verhaal. Brennan geeft een mooi inkijkje in relaties - binnen huwelijken, tussen vrouwen en tussen dienstbodes en hun bazen. Haar dialogen zijn echt om te smullen, vaak ook subtiel humoristisch. De laatste verhalen zijn geschreven vanuit het perspectief van een hond, heel mooi gedaan.
De verhalenbundel bestaat uit vier delen, waarbij elk deel zich in een ander gebied afspeelt, vaak met dezelfde personages en in dezelfde tijd. Daardoor leer je een aantal personages goed kennen. Een voordeel ten opzichte van verhalenbundels die uit losse verhalen bestaan, vind ik.
Drie delen spelen zich af in New York of een rijke gemeenschap net daarbuiten. Een deel speelt zich af in Ierland, waar veel armoede is. Allemaal in de jaren 50 en 60.
Ik werd meteen opgezogen door het eerste verhaal. Brennan geeft een mooi inkijkje in relaties - binnen huwelijken, tussen vrouwen en tussen dienstbodes en hun bazen. Haar dialogen zijn echt om te smullen, vaak ook subtiel humoristisch. De laatste verhalen zijn geschreven vanuit het perspectief van een hond, heel mooi gedaan.
February 2, 2023
Maeve Brennan is an Irish jewel.
September 30, 2019
A fierce and beautiful, melancholic collection of stories. I was surprised at Brennan's capacity to surprise me, how she managed to combine an unsentimental understanding of her characters along with an ability to make me empathise with them.
I love this collection, and I'm going to read her earlier collection too.
I had to pace myself while reading these stories.
I love this collection, and I'm going to read her earlier collection too.
I had to pace myself while reading these stories.
May 13, 2017
Out of the twenty stories, there were only 3-4 that I didn't get into and they were all in the later half.
June 17, 2021
GORGEOUS. Maybe the most undervalued writer I’ve ever read.
Want to read
June 25, 2020I may not want to actually read any of her stuff, but her life certainly was unusual!
"What makes a waif?" by Joanne O'Leary in LRB 13 Sept 2018 is a very good essay!!
Born in Dublin 1917, Brennan was hired as a staff writer by the New Yorker in 1949 and wrote for them the rest of her life.
"All my life, she told William Maxwell, her closest friend, I was as ashamed of having a little talent as another would be of being born without a nose." Good old Catholic guilt... She felt a "disgusting guilt" about her family.
The Dublin stories that made her name are set in her childhood home/street. Collected posthumously as The Springs of Affection, 1997, they appeared in the New Yorker between 1953 and 1973. The 1972 story of the title is widely acknowledged as her masterpiece, a story about "the gradual destructiveness of love, the erosion of the spirit through need".
Maxwell: Brennan's fiction was distinguished by 'almost clinical descriptions of states of mind'. The emotions in her stories -- envy, pettiness, regret -- are those that find expression in the footnotes of life. ...Brennan had a term for the digs [from name-calling to tantrums and pranks] that people ruined by disappointment use to get their kicks: she called it 'evil mirth'.
When Maxwell suggested she read the Anglo-Irish writer Elizabeth Bowen, Brennan took back a favourite portrait of Colette that she had hung behind his desk. [she was outraged]
The Rose Garden contains some of her funniest stories, set in an exclusive community on the Hudson. "These are Upstairs, Downstairs comedies in which Irish servants wreak gossipy havoc on their American bosses."
In the early 1970s Brennan's paranoia became full-blown. Brennan died in a nursing home in Queens in 1993. Her last 20 years were troubled and peripatetic, and their particulars are largely lost to us.
"What makes a waif?" by Joanne O'Leary in LRB 13 Sept 2018 is a very good essay!!
Born in Dublin 1917, Brennan was hired as a staff writer by the New Yorker in 1949 and wrote for them the rest of her life.
"All my life, she told William Maxwell, her closest friend, I was as ashamed of having a little talent as another would be of being born without a nose." Good old Catholic guilt... She felt a "disgusting guilt" about her family.
The Dublin stories that made her name are set in her childhood home/street. Collected posthumously as The Springs of Affection, 1997, they appeared in the New Yorker between 1953 and 1973. The 1972 story of the title is widely acknowledged as her masterpiece, a story about "the gradual destructiveness of love, the erosion of the spirit through need".
Maxwell: Brennan's fiction was distinguished by 'almost clinical descriptions of states of mind'. The emotions in her stories -- envy, pettiness, regret -- are those that find expression in the footnotes of life. ...Brennan had a term for the digs [from name-calling to tantrums and pranks] that people ruined by disappointment use to get their kicks: she called it 'evil mirth'.
When Maxwell suggested she read the Anglo-Irish writer Elizabeth Bowen, Brennan took back a favourite portrait of Colette that she had hung behind his desk. [she was outraged]
The Rose Garden contains some of her funniest stories, set in an exclusive community on the Hudson. "These are Upstairs, Downstairs comedies in which Irish servants wreak gossipy havoc on their American bosses."
In the early 1970s Brennan's paranoia became full-blown. Brennan died in a nursing home in Queens in 1993. Her last 20 years were troubled and peripatetic, and their particulars are largely lost to us.
December 30, 2025
Me gustó mucho la escritura de Maeve Brennan. Los cuentos no son parejos.
Están "agrupados", lo que está señalado con una página separadora, por algún hilo conductor que parece tener que ver con los lugares donde vivió Maeve.
Parece ser que tienen elementos autobiográficos, aunque no es relevante para leerlos.
Algunos tienen algo de postal, ya que es una escritura que nos permite recrear el tiempo-espacio donde transcurren.
Mis preferidos están en la primera parte, que al funcionar como una serie permite ir reconstruyendo el rompecabezas de la forma de vivir de un grupo de personas en un barrio residencial, y entonces aparece un desarrollo de personajes que no se agota en uno o dos cuentos. Lo que al principio parece aprovecharse de un contraste entre clases sociales, termina siendo un caleidoscopio bastante complejo y hasta divertido.
.
De esta edición (lo primero que leo de Brennan) también me gustaron especialmente dos cuentos de la última parte. El primero de ellos está centrado en Bianca, una gata de departamento, y el otro en Bluebell, una perra labradora de lo más encantadora. Son una belleza.
.
Tengo más que decir, pero estas son algunas ideas.
Están "agrupados", lo que está señalado con una página separadora, por algún hilo conductor que parece tener que ver con los lugares donde vivió Maeve.
Parece ser que tienen elementos autobiográficos, aunque no es relevante para leerlos.
Algunos tienen algo de postal, ya que es una escritura que nos permite recrear el tiempo-espacio donde transcurren.
Mis preferidos están en la primera parte, que al funcionar como una serie permite ir reconstruyendo el rompecabezas de la forma de vivir de un grupo de personas en un barrio residencial, y entonces aparece un desarrollo de personajes que no se agota en uno o dos cuentos. Lo que al principio parece aprovecharse de un contraste entre clases sociales, termina siendo un caleidoscopio bastante complejo y hasta divertido.
.
De esta edición (lo primero que leo de Brennan) también me gustaron especialmente dos cuentos de la última parte. El primero de ellos está centrado en Bianca, una gata de departamento, y el otro en Bluebell, una perra labradora de lo más encantadora. Son una belleza.
.
Tengo más que decir, pero estas son algunas ideas.
Read
November 6, 2024Una lettura particolare, nostalgica. Ma non so bene di cosa, direi nostalgica e basta. Forse è la narrazione del vivere altrove, lei che da Dublino va in America. L'essere expat? O forse è solo il modo di narrare che sembra spesso triste, soprattutto nelle storie finali— le prime sono invece irriverenti, divertenti, addirittura witty.
È triste, però in modo giusto, in modo sano, quella malinconia che talvolta ti accompagna e non vuoi mandare via: questa raccolta di racconti tiene compagnia, sì, da servire assieme a un té un filino fruttato, oppure uno di quei tè invernali, natalizi— con cannella, noci tostate e quant'altro.
In coda al libro, la breve nota "sull'autrice" fa notare quanto lei abbia tratto ispirazione dalla propria vita, dal proprio lavoro, dal modo in cui ha vissuto l'America. Mi pare, man mano che cresco, di preferire di gran lunga tutto ciò che è tratto dalla vita vera, ispirato al vissuto di autori e autrici.
È triste, però in modo giusto, in modo sano, quella malinconia che talvolta ti accompagna e non vuoi mandare via: questa raccolta di racconti tiene compagnia, sì, da servire assieme a un té un filino fruttato, oppure uno di quei tè invernali, natalizi— con cannella, noci tostate e quant'altro.
In coda al libro, la breve nota "sull'autrice" fa notare quanto lei abbia tratto ispirazione dalla propria vita, dal proprio lavoro, dal modo in cui ha vissuto l'America. Mi pare, man mano che cresco, di preferire di gran lunga tutto ciò che è tratto dalla vita vera, ispirato al vissuto di autori e autrici.
March 5, 2021
"A view is where we are not. Where we are is never a view."
~~~~
Some authors stay with you due to their words, others due to their message. A rare few due to both. Maeve Brennan stays with you thanks to her implicit satires, to a very grounded portrayal of Irish society inside Ireland and in New York. Through several female perspectives, we travel from house to house in the Manhattan suburbs, in Dublin. Even if the spaces vary, her acute look on social aspects is recurring; eventually, it becomes the line that connects all these short stories. They are bound together by this cunning depiction of the good and the bad, among both middle and upper-class.
~~~~
Some authors stay with you due to their words, others due to their message. A rare few due to both. Maeve Brennan stays with you thanks to her implicit satires, to a very grounded portrayal of Irish society inside Ireland and in New York. Through several female perspectives, we travel from house to house in the Manhattan suburbs, in Dublin. Even if the spaces vary, her acute look on social aspects is recurring; eventually, it becomes the line that connects all these short stories. They are bound together by this cunning depiction of the good and the bad, among both middle and upper-class.
September 28, 2022
Knappe verhalen met steeds een open einde, soms een beetje tè open: het lijkt alsof de schrijfster gewoon stopt omdat ze het schrijven beu is en dat laat mij als lezer ongemakkelijk achter. Maar het heeft wel een zekere charme.
De bundel is verdeeld in 4 cycli.
Vooral in 'Herberts Retreat' en 'Ierland' weet Maeve Brennan ongenadig de benepen trekjes van de grotendeels onsympathieke personages bloot te leggen, je krijgt bijna medelijden met ze.
De mooiste verhalen vind ik die uit ' East Hampton: zonder scherpte en ontroerend.
De bundel is verdeeld in 4 cycli.
Vooral in 'Herberts Retreat' en 'Ierland' weet Maeve Brennan ongenadig de benepen trekjes van de grotendeels onsympathieke personages bloot te leggen, je krijgt bijna medelijden met ze.
De mooiste verhalen vind ik die uit ' East Hampton: zonder scherpte en ontroerend.
February 2, 2023
Okay. A collection of short stories by a writer who delivers the goods. What more can you expect? Her stories are interlinked and something I have attempted in my own writing. I mean you can have characters in one story and they have their own stories later. What is that Marvel universe - nah Maeve wrote these stories in the 1950's onward. They are really damn good. So good I was straight away online to Amazon to order more. I am afraid to give anything away about these stories - except she writes like a Patricia Highsmith met Katherine Mansfield with a peppering of John O'Hara.
Read
March 9, 2025I am devouring every piece of writing I can locate from Maeve Brennan, such a fascinating lady who did not get to see the fruits of her success in her lifetime. This collection of her short stories was published posthumously in 2000. I particularly loved the stories set in Ireland, so rich in detail and nostalgia. "The Bride" is fantastic. I adore her sharp wit and keen observation.
July 15, 2021
I don't usually read short story collections, as I find I like to get into something for the long haul. I have to say, this collection has given me a new respect for the short story. Maeve Brennan's use of language was exquisite and I'm looking forward to reading more of her work.
December 28, 2018
Beautiful and sharp. Meant to be savored.
December 20, 2019
shes a genius
April 21, 2020
3.50 stars
December 6, 2020
Utterly beautiful character sketches that capture the absurdities of rich and poor, along with the poignancy of times gone by.
December 3, 2022
I didn’t find many of these stories compelling, but the writing was INCREDIBLE.
June 9, 2024
perfect book for reading on the tube to class bc each short story was like one journey. i enjoyed how they kind of linked together but def could not read like all in one sitting
Read
October 6, 2024Beautiful short stories by a writer that should be widely recognised (and she isn’t).
Displaying 1 - 30 of 45 reviews